The Secrets of Derbshire Manor
by bobbyfunke
Summary: 23 year old American orphan, Melinda Price, searches for answers about her past in Derbshire, England; finds friends, family, and magic along the way.
1. Chapter 1: Intro

**INTRO**

A rusted VW Beetle, with yellow paint chips missing from its faded coat, pulled up the winding and uneven pebbled driveway towards the impressive three-story home in Derbshire, England. Although the Manor was only an hour outside of the bustling modernized city of London, upon arrival to the estate, one couldn't help but to be transported back to a time of courtship and pretense. You could say that it was that nostalgia for the past that drew Melinda Price to the Manor for the first time that misty afternoon. She'd recently acquired a taste for her heritage and all roads she crossed led her to Derbshire.

Melinda wasn't a particularly sentimental person; in fact, she'd lost touch with most of her "family" once she turned 18, the legal age of Adulthood in the United States. Growing up in an assortment of foster homes throughout the tri-state area, Melinda had long since given up on figuring out anything about her genetic family. That was, until she received a mysterious e-mail from her supposed uncle claiming he'd been searching for her for years and asking her to come to Derbshire. After a couple of long months, filled with her own research, Melinda concluded the man's legitimacy and accepted his invitation to reunite with family.  
Ever since Melinda could comprehend what a family truly was, she'd contemplated what happened to hers. Melinda's foster mother in her second home was the first to tell her how she ended up in the system. Melinda was found in a rundown flat in the lower west side of New York City when she was just an infant. Her cries of abandonment alerted the neighbor and subsequently the superintendent of the building brought her to the police. The police found no trace of forced entry, or any signs of packing; both Melinda's and her mother's identification documents were in the apartment and everything seemed to be in place. There was no record of her father's identity in the apartment. Although the police found that Melinda's mother, Jacqueline Price, worked as a waitress at a small diner up the street from their apartment, none of her co-workers at the diner knew much about Jacqueline and they were even surprised to hear that she had a baby. After finding no insight into how she disappeared, Melinda's mother was declared a missing person by the State of New York in October of 1984. Now, after 23 years of uncertainty, Melinda was hoping to find some answers.

Melinda's silky auburn waves tangled in the wind as she made her way up to the black double doors marking the entrance to the Manor. As she tried to smooth her tresses before entering, Melinda rang the doorbell. Passed the door, Melinda heard bells chime and her stomach began to do flips. The dull clap of rubber soles against tile grew louder as someone came to the door; it seemed to inch open, each squeak of the hinge more deafening than the last.  
The door opened to reveal a portly looking woman in a black dress and apron. Her warm rosy complexion contrasted with the sour expression she wore.

"May I help you?" The grey-haired woman asked through pursed lips as her eyes scanned Melinda's appearance.  
"Oh, um…I'm looking for Dr. Stone." Melinda said in a shaky and unsure voice. "He's expecting me."

"And you are?" The woman asked.

"Melinda Price."  
The woman's expression softened, "Oh, Miss Price, you're just in time for lunch." The woman rushed her inside, "Master Stone will be taking his lunch by the courtyard today, if you'll follow me to the patio."

"Alright, thank you, Ms…" Melinda hinted for an introduction.  
"Falcone. I'm the head house keeper." She said matter-of-factly. "If you'd give me your car keys, I'll have someone fetch your things."

"Uh, sure. Thank you." Melinda handed Ms. Falcone the rental's keychain from her purse.

As she followed the elderly house-keeper through the foyer, Melinda admired her uncle's home. Twin marble staircases lined the entrance room, leading up to the second floor where you could see down to the foyer from the balcony-esque banister that outlined the beginnings of the second floor hallway. They passed through an archway to the right and into a dining room that held a beautiful eight seated mahogany dining table. They passed the table and through a door to the left into an over-sized living room area, complete with a cocktail bar, that contained two glass French doors leading to a patio with a large awning.

Sitting at a glass table, a man Melinda presumed to be Dr. Price hid behind a newspaper.

Ms. Falcone cleared her throat, "Miss Melinda Price." She said succinctly.

The man dropped his paper on the table in front of him and hurriedly removed himself from his chair. Stepping in to shake her hand, Dr. Stone extended a jittery palm to Melinda, "Oh, it's so good to finally see you! Please, would you take a seat?" The man offered as he did the same. Ms. Falcone took this as her cue to leave.

"I'm sorry to have been so vague in our e-mail correspondence, but I thought it best we talk in person. Don't you agree?" The Dr. asked.

"Yes, of course. Thank you, by the way for inviting me for the summer; it was extremely generous to open up your home to me." Melinda praised.

"Oh, don't be silly. I've been waiting for this moment for years. I'm hoping you'll come to feel that this is a welcoming home. You will ask if you need anything, won't you?"

"I'm sure I'll be perfectly content, it's so beautiful here."

Ms. Falcone interrupted the two with a tray full of sandwiches, "Lunch is served. I'll be right out with some cucumber water."

As Dr. Stone reached for a sandwich, Melinda examined the lanky man. Dr. Stone was a tall man, but very slight in stature, Melinda thought he resembled a spider. His demeanor was quite jovial, from what Melinda could gather, but his body language and the way he moved was seemingly awkward and uncomfortable, add that he tended to end all of his thoughts in a question and Melinda thought he came off a bit eccentric. However, his welcoming smile and soft cooing voice put Melinda at ease

Ms. Falcone returned with a pitcher of iced water with floating slices of cucumber and two chilled glasses. The Dr. thanked her and waited until she was back inside before leaning forward in his chair towards Melinda, "So, let's get down to it, then. Yes?"

"Um, yes. Where should we start?" Melinda asked, not sure how to proceed. Coming to England, she had no idea what to expect or what she was hoping to find.

"How about you tell me what you know about our family?" The Dr. suggested.

"Well, I don't know much. Nothing about who my father is." Melinda's voice dropped low at the end. "I know my mother was a waitress and that her name was Jacqueline. I know that she's still considered a missing person and that her case is cold. However, I didn't know that she had a younger brother; though, to be honest, I never tried to find anyone else after I found that she was missing and had no known acquaintances."

"Unfortunately, I couldn't tell you who your father is. Your mother didn't become pregnant with you until after she left England for America. I was only 14 at the time. In truth, I'm not sure if I can give you any answers pertaining to the mystery around your mother's disappearance, it's all still quite new to me. You see, I've only just learned of this four years ago when my father passed."

"I'm sorry, Dr., but how is that possible?" Melinda questioned.

"Please, call me Miles." Dr. Stone insisted.

"Fine, then. Please, Miles, explain." Melinda waited with intrigue.

"Well, your mother is only my half sibling. Though, she never treated me as anything less than her brother. Her father was a Frenchman who died in Vietnam. Our mother was married to him before my father. When our mother passed while giving birth to me, my father was left to take care of us alone. Your mother was eighteen when I was born and only stayed to help my father care for me. Though, they never got along. When she left, my father threatened to disown her and keep the inheritance she was to receive from her mother's will when she turned 25. He was a man of his word. I scarcely heard from your mother after she left, news of her pregnancy was the last she'd written. I was fourteen then and by the time I was eighteen I'd accepted that your mother's silence meant that she wanted to forget our family. However, when my father was recently on his deathbed after suffering a third stroke, he divulged to me that he kept from me the better half of the letters your mother sent. When I found this out, I started my search for her, only to find you instead." Dr. Miles Stone finished his melancholy story.

"I'm very sorry to disappoint." Melinda said.

"On the contrary, you are the only living relative I have. I'm very pleased to find you." Miles smiled.

"I guess the same is true for me." Melinda agreed. "So, Miles, now that we've found each other, what should we do?"

"Well, I suppose you'll want to see London; am I correct?"  
Melinda nodded profusely.

"Then perhaps you'd like to get settled and tonight we can get dinner in the city. We can catch up, as they say."

"That sounds wonderful." Melinda said.

Miles Stone buzzed an intercom and called for Ms. Falcone.

"Are you finished with lunch, sir?" The woman waddled out to the table.

"We are, Patty. And if you'd kindly show Miss Price to her quarters so she can settle in.

"Of course, Mr. Stone." Patty Falcone nodded, "If you'd follow me, Miss."

Melinda followed the woman back into the living room and to the right where there was doorway to a set of carpeted stairs that they embarked on. The two reached a plateau in the steps where another doorway lie before them and the stairs continued up to the third floor to the left of them. Melinda followed Ms. Falcone through the second floor door and down a hallway to the left where she opened the fourth door on her right.

"Your things are here by the bed," Ms. Falcone pointed to the suitcases as they walked in, "the bathroom is just through there," she directed Melinda to the left, "and there's a buzzer on the bedside table if you need any assistance. We'll take your laundry every Wednesday and Saturday and there will be a maid to turn down your room every day at 11 AM. If you don't wish to be disturbed, just tie this ribbon on the knob." Ms. Falcone pulled a white silk ribbon from her apron.

"Thank you, this feels like a hotel…" Melinda mused.

"Yes, well, if you don't need anything I'll leave you to yourself." Ms. Falcone excused herself and shut the door behind her.

The room was spacious, almost the size of Melinda's studio apartment back in New York. Afraid to dirty the crisp white rug, Melinda removed her shoes as she walked to the bedside table to set down the ribbon Ms. Falcone had given her. Sitting down on the four post bed, she took in the room. All of the furniture was a beautiful deep mahogany; there was a vanity on the far wall facing her bed and to the left of the bathroom door. On the right wall there was a large armoire with a chest of four drawers below a small cabinet with two full length cabinets on either side. To the right of that was a large cushioned window seat with a view of the garden. After unpacking her things into the armoire, Melinda decided to take a shower. Heading into the bathroom, she found a glass paneled shower and an old fashioned porcelain tub in front of her, porcelain sinks set in marble, and a door to the left most likely leading to the toilet.

Melinda wasn't one for dressing up and, as she looked through her wardrobe, she hoped that her uncle wouldn't mind a casual dress code. She finally settled on a pair of jeans and a light-weight pale mint sweater and decided to find her Uncle Miles. Walking down the hall and passed the twin staircase that lead to the front foyer, Melinda found a pair of tall wooden doors that were slightly ajar. She reasoned with herself that since the door was already open, it wouldn't be too invasive if she just had a peek inside. Being careful not to make any noise, Melinda inched the door open and peered inside. It was a library; bookshelves lined the walls while a table with chairs and a couch filled the floor space. Not seeing the harm in taking a look around, Melinda decided to check what was on the shelves; after all, books were meant to be read.

Looking at the titles on the spines of the old dusty books, Melinda searched for any signs of a familiar title: to no avail. All of the books had the most peculiar names, such as _Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles_ and _Beating the Bludgers – A Study of Defensive Strategies in Quidditch_. As Melinda decided between two books entitled _Fowl of Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality_ and _Hogwarts: A History_, someone called her name from the hall.

"Melinda? Are you decent?" It was her Uncle Miles knocking on her bedroom door.

Not knowing if it was okay to be in the library, Melinda was instantly regretting her bout of nosiness. As her anxiety over offending her new found family member grew, Melinda felt her stomach pull. The not in her stomach seemed to grow the more her uncle knocked and the more she wished she were back in her room. Just when she was sure that she was about to throw up, everything around her went black and the knot in her stomach twisted and pulled her through the dark abyss. Trying to search for some sort of light, Melinda heard a loud "CRACK!" and found that her wish had been granted. Melinda found herself standing at the door of her room holding the two books from the library.

"Melinda? What was that? Are you ok?" Her Uncle called on the other side of the door.

Melinda tossed the books onto the vanity and opened the door, "Yes, I'm fine."

"What's going on?" Her Uncle asked.

Melinda was wondering the same thing.


	2. Chapter 2: Diagon Alley

**DIAGON ALLEY**

As Melinda road with her Uncle in a town car to London, she tried to think of an explanation for what had happened back at the Manor. One moment she was having a panic attack in the library, and the next moment she was opening her bedroom door for her uncle. It was impossible, unconceivable, inexplicable, and exactly what had happened.

"Are you alright? You seem distracted." Miles commented on Melinda's silence.  
"I'm fine, just taking in the view."  
"Yes, there's nothing like the English Countryside, I suppose." Miles smiled.  
"Where are we going to eat?" Melinda made conversation.  
"I'm not sure, I thought we might walk around and see if anything strikes our fancy. How does that sound?"

"That sounds perfect." Melinda said, trying to be agreeable.

"Melinda, I'm afraid I have to admit I'm not much of an entertainer. There won't be many people over to the house, and I work long days, so feel free to take the town car into the city whenever you like."

"Thank you. I have a rental, though."  
"Oh, yes. I'd forgotten."

"In any case, I've always been a little bit of a recluse myself." Melinda continued in attempts at small talk.

"Is that so? I would think with your background it would be very easy to make new acquaintances." Miles supposed.

"In what way?" Melinda asked.

"Well, I know you said you'd moved around with many foster families growing up. Wouldn't you have gotten practice at making new friends?"

"I guess I could have, but I never really felt comfortable with my peers. Don't get me wrong; each of my foster homes was better than the last and I had friends, I'm just happier when I'm alone with a good book."

"You like to read?"  
"Yes, I do, very much."

"Well, I have an excellent library at the Manor; to the left of the double stairs when you walk in the house."

"You have two libraries?" Melinda slipped.

"Well, yes, how did you know?"  
"Um, well, I saw the door cracked and I peeked inside to one of the rooms in the hall by my room." Melinda half-confessed.

"I see. Well, as much as I hate to restrict anyone's curiosity, would you mind terribly if I asked you to use the downstairs library instead of that one? You see, it's my personal collection and I'd very much like to keep it in order."

"Oh, of course, I wouldn't dream of disturbing your books." Melinda slapped on as guiltless a grin as she could manage.

"Thank you, I truly appreciate that." Miles said.

The rest of the car ride conversation was filled with small chit-chat. Miles told Melinda about his career as a CPA and Melinda confessed that she still had no clue what she wanted to pursue after college. They both had little luck holding a relationship, as they both tended to be less inclined to opening up emotionally. As the conversation continued, Melinda noticed Miles' body language seemed more relaxed than when they'd first taken lunch, and she was glad to see that he was finding as much ease in talking with her as she was with him. As it turned out, they had much in common in the way of literary taste and social preferences.

"I think I might try to find a summer job." Melinda told Miles over dinner.

"Oh, really? You don't have to, you know. I'm more than able to accommodate your stay. And half of my inheritance really belonged to your mother in the first place, so don't feel like you're putting me out."

"That's not it at all, I like to be busy. Back in New York I worked in a used book shop and waited tables while I went to school. You know what they say, idle hands…"

"Well, if you really feel that way, I think it's a splendid idea." Miles smiled. "So, did you want some dessert, or shall I get the check?"

"I'm full, thank you."

"Wonderful. I have an early morning tomorrow to make up for my day off. I hope you don't mind getting back to the Manor after this."

"Actually, I wanted to walk around the city a bit. I can take the train back if you're not feeling up for it."

"Alright, well, if you promise you'll be safe."

"I promise."

"And you have my cell number if you get into any trouble?"  
"Yes, thank you."

"And call when you've reached the station, I'll send a car to get you."

"I will." Melinda smiled, her Uncle was worried. It was sweet.

After saying goodbye to her Uncle, Melinda set on course to find a bookshop that was still open. On a corner of Charing Cross Road, she found a Foyles bookshop that wasn't due to close for another hour.

"Excuse me," Melinda began as she walked up to an employee, "I was wondering if you could help me find a book."

"Sure, follow me." The worker walked behind a counter with a computer. "What's the title or author of the book you're looking for?"

"Hogwarts: A History, I'm not sure of the author." Melinda said.

"I'm sorry, could you spell Hogwarts for me?"

"Are you crazy?!" A strange man grabbed Melinda by the arm and pulled her away from the information desk. Just as Melinda was about to pull away and run from the man, he continued his thought. "You can't just ask a muggle that kind of question!"

Melinda recognized that word, muggle, from one of the other books in her Uncle's library. "And what is a 'muggle' exactly?"

"Oh, you're American. It means non-magic folk. Do they have a different name for it in the states?"

Melinda thought quickly, "Yes, mortal."

"Well I suppose you just run around asking mortals about magical history books there too?"

"Um, yes?" Melinda was so confused. She looked over the stranger, he seemed completely average in every way, his black hair was a bit unkempt, but his clothes were washed and he was clean-shaven. The man didn't look like the sad and delusional homeless that roamed New York City, and yet he was obviously demented. However, due to sheer intrigue and since the day had already been out of the ordinary, Melinda continued to go along with the man's insane ramblings. "I just can't seem to find the right book store here."

"Well you're close, about a block and a half off. If you want, I can show you, but we'll have to hurry. Flourish and blots closes at nine."

"That would be so helpful." Melinda flashed a warm smile.

"I'm Harry, by the way."

"Melinda, it's nice to meet you." Melinda began to follow the man.

"You know, you're lucky that I'm having such a good day. Any other auror would have arrested you for such a display." The man said.

"I'm sorry, I must be coming off as such a foreigner, but what's an auror?" Melinda probed.

"It's just a dark arts crimes specialist within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Oh, we call those MBD agents." Melinda said, getting crafty with her fabrications.

"What does MBD stand for?"

"Magical Bureau of Defense." Melinda said knowingly.

"It's always interesting to learn about the differences in countries' governments, isn't it?" The man called Harry said. "Right through here."

As Melinda stared at the abandoned shop that the stranger was leading her towards, she thought back to her promise to her uncle to stay safe, but before she had time to re-think her actions, Harry opened the dilapidated door and ushered her inside. Melinda was surprised to find a pub inside. It was still a bit grimy looking, but definitely not an abandoned shop.

"Through here." Harry called as he walked past the pub area and towards the back.

"What is this place?" Melinda asked.

"It's called The Leaky Cauldron. It's a pub and inn that connects the wizarding world to the muggle world."

"I see." Melinda followed Harry out the back door and into an enclosed alley way.

Melinda was starting to fear she'd mad a bad decision in following the man, and when he reached into his pocket she was expecting him to pull out a knife or some other weapon to hurt her with. Instead, though, he pulled out a whittled twig. The man began to tap his stick on the brick wall in front of the two. When he lowered the twig, the bricks in the wall began to rearrange themselves and opened to reveal another street.

"This is Diagon Alley. Flourish and Blotts is just up the road." The man began to walk away from Melinda.

Melinda took in the shop signs, _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_ and the _Magical Menagerie_ weren't even the tip of the strange iceberg. "Wait!" She called after the man.

"Yes?" Harry turned back to her.

"I hate to put you out, but if you're not too busy, would you mind coming with me? I'm not sure I'll be able to get back." Melinda admitted.

"Well, I suppose." Harry said.

As the two walked to Flourish and Blotts Harry asked about her book choice. "Why were you looking for _Hogwarts: A History_? You're much too young to have kids attending there."

"Oh, no. I just…it seemed a good place to start."

"I guess it would be considered a tourist destination for some." Harry agreed.

"You know, I think my Uncle has a copy of it, what I really want to check out is that _Ollivander's Wand Shop_." Melinda changed their course.

"Oh, is there something wrong with your wand?" Harry asked

"I've seemed to have…broken it." Melinda didn't know if you could break a wand or not.

"I know how that goes. This is my third one since becoming an auror."

Melinda opened the shop door to a cluttered room filled with piles of what looked like shoe boxes.

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander?" Harry called.

"Oh, hello, Harry." A small old man came out from a row of boxes.

"So sorry to bother you this close to closing, but my friend here seems to have broken her wand. Do you think you could find her a new one?"

"Sure, what was in your last one dear?"

"Um…I'm not sure."

"Not sure of what your wand was made of?"

"No one told me?"  
"Well I don't know how they do things in America, but you need to know your wand before you're able to use it."

"I guess we'll have to have you try a couple and find out."


	3. Chapter 3: Powers You Never Knew You Had

"Let's try you out on this," Mr. Ollivander handed a long, skinny box to Melinda; "It's 9 and ¾ inches, rosewood, with a core of dragon heartstring."  
Melinda opened the box to find a deep red wooden stick inside. Looking at the wand, she considered all that had happened today, all of the amazing and inexplicable occurrences. Instead of being overwhelmed, as she thought she should, her curiosity seemed to get the better of her as she penetrated deeper into the unknown.  
"Go ahead, don't be afraid." Harry said to her.  
"Right." She said, snapping back from her thoughts.

As soon as Melinda grabbed the wand, the entire room began to shake. Boxes fell from every direction and Melinda watched in frozen terror as a particularly large pile came crashing towards her. Harry, however, pulled out his wand and waved it at the pile, making it fall the other way, and then knocked the wand out of Melinda's hand.

"I guess that's not the right one." Harry laughed.

"I dare say not." Ollivander chuckled along.

Melinda gave a weak smile as Ollivander went searching through the rubble for another wand for her to try.

"How about this cherry wood-"

"Maybe something with Mahogany." Melinda interrupted.

"Oh, if you think so." Ollivander switched to another pile. "Yes, I think this one will do fine." He handed her another box. "10 and ½ inches, mahogany, with a core of unicorn hair."

Melinda timidly opened the box and reached inside cautiously. She braced herself when she grabbed the wand, but nothing happened. She pulled it out and examined it. A small white light seemed to form at the tip of the wand. It was growing larger and exuded some sort of shimmering wave from it. Melinda looked at the two men to gauge their reactions. They both looked as if they were being given a deep tissue massage; each of their faces were in a relaxed state with a soft contented smile, and their eyes seemed to glaze over.

"Are you two ok?" Melinda asked.

"Yes," Ollivander said dreamily.

"Couldn't be happier." Harry finished in the same tone.

Melinda decided to put the wand away, and as the stick left her hands, both of the men seemed to alert themselves.

"Oh, I wish you would have told us you were an empath." Ollivander sighed. "I would have given you unicorn hair from the beginning."

"You're an empath?" Harry turned to Melinda.

"Apparently?" Melinda said.

"Oh, that's wonderful. They're so hard to come by, most of them are muggle born and never practice witchcraft. We're always looking for a good one at the Ministry. Here's my card if you ever need a job." Harry handed her a business card with a cross street on it and directions to "dial 62442."

"Is this your extension?" Melinda asked, seeing no real value in any of the information on the card.

"No, once you're inside you'll have to be directed to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the sixth floor. I'm Head of the Auror Offices."

"I see. I might take you up on that offer. I've been looking for a job." Melinda pocketed the card.

"So, are we ready to purchase, then?" Ollivander asked.

"Yes, of course." Melinda said, rummaging through her purse for her wallet. "How much is it?"

"7 Galleons." Ollivander said.

"Um, I'm sorry…I only have pounds and dollars." Melinda pulled out her cash.

"Muggle currency, I'm not sure." Ollivander looked to Harry.

"Here," Harry pulled out a pouch full of coins and handed the man some gold ones, "that's about equal to 35 pounds."

"Thank you." Melinda handed him the cash.

"They'll be closed now, but I suggest you come back tomorrow and go to Gringotts to convert your currency." Harry said. "Thank you Mr. Ollivander, see you soon." Harry waved as he and Melinda left the shop and headed for the Leaky Cauldron.

"Here, this is the pattern you tap to get through." Harry said, showing her which bricks to tap so the wall would open up.

"Thank you and thank you for staying with me. I wouldn't have ever figured my way around here."

"No problem. May I ask who you're staying with? I know most of the wizarding families around here."

"Oh, I'm not sure you'd know mine." Melinda said.

"Try me." Harry pressed.

Not seeing the harm Melinda conceded. "I'm staying in Derbshire with my uncle Miles Stone."

"Oh, Dr. Stone! He's your uncle, you say? I wasn't aware he had any siblings. So glad to hear that he's not alone, though"

"Yes, well, we're newly acquainted." Melinda said, shocked that Harry knew who her uncle was. "How did you say you knew him?"

"From the Ministry, of course. He handles all the expenses for the department."

"Oh, yes. Sorry..." Melinda thought on the conversation she'd had earlier with her uncle about his CPA work, it was surreal to her that 'magic' could be so organized.

"Let me ask you something," Harry paused, "I've never wanted to offend him, but what sort of Doctor is he?"

"I think he just has a doctorates in accounting – I suppose. I've never asked him myself." Melinda admitted.

"Right, perhaps you could come into the offices with him sometime this week and see how we run across the pond."

"I don't see why not." Melinda lied.

"Great, well, I have to be going. It was nice meeting you. Give my best to Miles."

"You as well, and I will."

And with that, Melinda watched her new acquaintance Harry disappeared into thin air with a loud "POP!"

As Melinda road the train back to Derbshire, she became lost in thought. She was almost in disbelief over the sequence of events that just took place. Had it not been for the wand she held in her hand, she would have thought it all part of some psychotic hallucination. When Melinda's train pulled into the Derbshire station she saw a town car waiting in the parking lot for her. Melinda thanked the driver for picking her up and quickly got into the back seat, eager to get back to the Manor so she could sneak into the library again. During the car ride Melinda went back and forth in her mind over whether or not to confront her uncle about his involvement in this apparent magical world. She decided that, depending on what she found in the library that night, she would determine whether she was delusional or not and then speak with her uncle accordingly.

When Melinda arrived back at the Manor it was almost midnight and everyone had gone to bed. After changing into some lounge-wear, Melinda snuck off to the private library. Luckily, it was open. After scanning nearly 100 books looking around for anything that might give her something to start with, Melinda stumbled upon the perfect one, _Powers You Never Knew You Had and What to Do with Them Now You've Wised Up_. Melinda took the book back to her room to read, as not to get caught in the library.

Melinda scanned the index for 'empath' and turned to the indicated page. Melinda read:

_So you think you're an Empath_

_ Well, congratulations, nearly 3/4__th__s of the population of Empaths have no idea that they have the abilities, and more than half of that 3/4__th__s are muggle born. The difficulty that comes with realizing you are an Empath is that most witches, wizards, and muggles chalk up their powers to human nature._

_ Now, just because these powers usually go undetected doesn't mean that they aren't great. An Empath, much like a witch or wizard, has to learn how to control and center their power to obtain the fruits of their efforts. However, unlike a witch or wizard, an Empath will usually channel their gifts through their hands, or some other form of touch. _

_ The difference between a witch and an Empath is very slight. An Empath is able to use magic at a very basic level, but will generally be thought to be a squib while growing up as their power doesn't develop until nearly 15 years after a witch or wizard, although able to then practice witchcraft on a very minute level, most Empaths choose not to; this is what makes muggle born Empaths especially hard to discover._

_ Although the type of magic used for charms and curses is not strong in an Empath, they do have a great well of power in another sense. Empaths, when fully trained and practiced to the best of their abilities, will be able to change the moods of others without any invasive or mind altering control over the subject of their choosing. This ability to gently persuade people into doing what they want could be great help in careers such as healing, working with aurors, or professor; popular muggle careers for Empaths include psychologist, social worker, or teacher._

Feeling as though she'd gotten as many answers as she could from a book, Melinda decided that at dinner tomorrow night she would ask her uncle about the magical world and hoped he would tell her the truth. Melinda put the book under her bed and turned in for the evening.


	4. Chapter 4: Learn Magic Fast

Melinda woke up the next morning at 10:30 to a knock on her bedroom door.

"Coming!" Melinda called as she tore herself from the soft comfort of her down bedding.

She opened the door to a cheery looking young woman about her age. "Ms. Falcone wanted me to inform you that we'll be coming to turn down your room at 11 if you'd like to get dressed before-hand." The girl smiled brightly.

"Oh, sorry, I'm not used to this." Melinda said through a yawn. "You really don't have to make up my room. I can make my own bed and keep things tidy on my own."

"Nonsense! We love to do it!"

"I've never heard of a maid who loves her job so much." Melinda chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm.

"Maid? What's a – Oh, right, maid! I'm a maid."

"Um, yeah…what did you say your name was?" Melinda asked the odd worker.

"I'm Elsie. It's very nice meeting you Miss Price."

"Please, call me Mel."

"If you want." She said through grinning teeth. "Well, I'll leave you to get ready."

After showering, Melinda set out to find the kitchen to make herself something to eat. She walked downstairs and through the living room and dining room, where she saw a door she and Ms. Falcone passed when she first had lunch at the Manor. Suspecting that the kitchen wouldn't be far from the dining room, she went to open the door but was suddenly stopped by a shouting Ms. Falcone.

"Stop! What are you doing?" She rushed passed Melinda and blocked the door.

"I was hungry, so I thought I'd find the kitchen."

"Well, you can't go in there…the…uh…cook doesn't like new people." Ms. Falcone said unconvincingly. "Go sit at the table and I'll get you whatever you'd like."

"I'm not sure what you have?" Melinda said.

"What do you want?"  
"Do you have cereal?"

"Sure."

"What kind?"

"What kind do you want?"

"Frosted Flakes."

"Alright."

"Wait! Special K."

"Ok."

"No! Honey Nut Cheerios."

"Fine. Are you sure?" Ms. Falcone was beginning to get annoyed.

"Maybe I should just come in and look, I promise not to get in the way." Melinda offered, trying to reason her way into the now intriguing kitchen.

"No, how about I just bring you a bowl of everything." Ms. Falcone was unwavering.

"That's not necessary. Honey Nut Cheerios are fine." Melinda gave up and took a seat at the table next to her.

"Good, I'll be right back." Ms. Falcone turned to enter the kitchen.

As she pushed the door open Melinda tried to see what was past her, but Ms. Falcone was careful not to let the door push open wide enough for Melinda to peek.

When Melinda returned to her room everything was spotless, she forgot that she'd left the books that she'd taken from the library underneath her bed and hoped they'd still be there. She lifted the bed skirt to find that they were gone. Both disappointed to find the books gone and worried that the maid might say something to Ms. Falcone, Melinda buzzed the intercom by her bed.

"How can we help you?" A fuzzy voice came through the speaker.

"Yes, hi, I was wondering if Elsie was around?" Melinda asked the anonymous voice.

"Yes, would you like to speak with her?"

"Yes, if you could send her up- " Melinda was interrupted by a knock on her door, "sorry, just one moment."

Melinda got up to open the door and found Elsie on the other side.

"Wow! That was fast." Melinda marveled.

"How can I help you?" Elsie asked.

"This might sound odd, but there were some books underneath the bed earlier..."

"Oh, yes. I put them back in the library."

"I'm sorry, but I need them for something, is there any way you could get them back for me?" Melinda asked the maid, not wanting to go into the library in broad daylight with Ms. Falcone around every corner.

"I'm sorry, miss, but I can't do that. Ms. Falcone was very intent that Master Stone was the only one who was allowed to remove those books from that library. I can bring you any other book you like from the downstairs library." Elsie offered.

"I understand, and no thank you." Melinda said dejectedly.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, miss?"

"Actually, have you told anyone that you found those books in my room?"

"No, miss."

"Could we possibly keep that between us? I don't want anyone to get upset over this. It seems so silly." Melinda asked.

"Of course, miss." Elsie nodded. "Though, I can't promise the same thing twice."

"No, and I wouldn't ask you to." Melinda assured her.

"Alright then, can I help you with something else?"  
"No, thank you. Sorry to disturb you."  
"You are not disturbing me. This is my job." Elsie said cheerily. "Have a good day, miss." Elsie said before leaving.

With the books taken away from her and Ms. Falcone keeping an eye on her, Melinda began to feel claustrophobic, even in the giant house. Melinda walked over to the armoire and opened the bottom drawer where she'd hidden her wand between two pairs of pants. Grabbing her keys and stuffing the wand in her purse, Melinda decided to go back to Diagon Alley. Melinda slipped out the door before Ms. Falcone had a chance to ask her where she was going and rushed out to her cheap rental.

An hour later she found some parallel parking on Charing Cross and headed for the abandoned shop she knew to be The Leaky Cauldron; however, this time as she approached the inn and pub, she could clearly see The Leaky Cauldron sign and the historical looking establishment. Walking inside, she looked around at the strangely dressed people and the pictures on the wall that seemed to be moving. Trying not to gape and draw attention to herself, Melinda stared at her shoes as she walked toward the back and avoided eye-contact with anyone. Once she reached the back alley wall, Melinda took out her wand and tapped the bricks just how Harry had shown her the day before. The wall moved aside to show a much livelier street than the one she saw last night. All of the shops were open and each of them had a name more witchy than the last. Melinda's first stop was Gringotts Wizard Bank so that she could get some money to spend.

The first thing that Melinda noticed after walking into the enormously tall Victorian style bank were the ugly little monsters that were waddling around inside. As she stood in the middle of the room, awestruck by even the passing patrons, one of the little goblins walked over to Melinda.

"Either do business, or get out." He said rudely.

"Excuse me?"

"This building is for customers only. Do you have an account with us?"  
"I'm afraid I don't," Melinda began, "though I have quite a bit of _muggle_ money that I'd like to convert." She took out her bulging wallet.

"Right this way." The little thing wobbled after her to the car, and then directed her on where to go for her transaction.

After exchanging 100 pounds of currency, Melinda was more than happy to leave the bank. It was the rudest service she'd ever gotten in her life, in this world or the other. Her first shop stop was Flourish and Blots to find some useful books. As she looked around, she found that it was organized much like a normal bookstore. She scanned the genres and decided to start in the "Charms" section. After four hours of intense browsing, Melinda had a heaping pile of books that she was interested in purchasing: _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, The Essential Defense Against the Dark Arts, Magical Drafts and Potions, Magical Studies, Magical Theories, A History of Magic, Dark Arts Defense: Basics for Beginners, Self Defense Spellwork, Learn Magic Fast with Kwikspell, Legislative Guide to the Proper Use of Magic, _and last but not least a _Guide to Advanced Occlumency_.

"That's quite a stack you have." Melinda heard a female voice address her, but couldn't see past the shaky tower in her grasp.

"Uh…yeah." Melinda replied, trying not to lose her grip.

"Here, let me help you." The unidentified woman said as the books began to float out of Melinda's arms.

"Thank you." Melinda said in awe.

"No problem." The woman laughed. "Forgive my prying, but you can't just be learning the craft…can you?"

This question caught Melinda's attention away from the levitating literature; did she answer truthfully? Was there some sort of law against muggles finding out about witchcraft? And was she even considered a muggle since she was almost positive her family was not? She stared at the bushy-haired brunette, she was still waiting for a response.

"I'm an empath." Melinda blurted out, hoping that this would explain something.

"Oh?"

"I thought I was a squib." Melinda threw out another term that meant nothing to her.

"I see. Well, it's very ambitious of you to try to learn it all by yourself."

"Yes, well, eager minds…" Melinda said uncomfortably.

"My name is Hermione, Hermione Granger." The girl said with an outstretched hand.

"Melinda Price; it's nice to meet you." Melinda shook the girl's hand.

"So, you're American." The girl noted as she began to walk with the floating books up towards the counter.

"Yes." Melinda followed her.

"Well, that explains why I haven't seen you around here."

"Is the magical community small in London?" Melinda asked, recalling that Harry from the day before was also surprised to see an unfamiliar face.

"No, not particularly, I just work for the Ministry so it's easy to know a lot of the wizarding families in the area."

"Oh, my uncle works for the Ministry." Melinda said, not knowing why she was continuing the conversation with the girl.

"Really? Who is he?"

"Miles Stone. He works in accounting for-"

"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Yes. I guess you know him."

"I do, I work in that department."

"Oh, are you an auror?"  
"No, I do more work with upholding equal opportunity legislature."

"I see…" Melinda lied as she wondered what kind of prejudice was in the magical world.

"Look, I admire anyone who puts forth the effort to educate themselves as much as possible, and I'd love to help you if you have any trouble with your home-studies." Hermione pulled out a card. "This is my home address. Just send me an owl."

"Um, sure. Thanks again for helping me with my books."

"No problem, it was nice to meet you." Hermione levitated the books onto the checkout counter for Melinda.

"You also." Melinda smiled as the girl went back to browsing.

By the time Melinda checked out it was almost six, and she decided to head back to the Manor in hopes of catching her uncle for dinner to discuss with him her recent findings.


End file.
